Kissing it better
by Batwings79
Summary: PWP - Just a bit of silly fun - a one-shot written in response to the following Tumblr Prompt: Imagine Person A of your OTP getting a papercut or some other minor injury and Person B kissing it better. Enjoy!


_**A/N: Just a bit of fun written in response to this…..**_

_**Prompt: Imagine Person A of your OTP getting a papercut or some other minor injury and Person B kissing it better.**_

_**Disclaimer: Fellowes, ITV, Carnival, PBS, etc…get all the acclaim, the credit and the money!**_

* * *

He watched from the low wall around the garden at Crawley House as she made her way carefully through the rosebushes. He'd never seen her looking lovelier, wearing a faded cotton blouse that he remembered from when she first started working with him at the hospital. With the unusually warm April weather, she wore it open at the neck with the cuffs turned back just enough to accommodate the cotton gloves protecting her hands. A wide brimmed straw hat hung forgotten down her back by the long ribbons that were tied in a knot at the ends, her dark honey blonde hair sparkling in the afternoon sunlight.

He felt his pulse quickened when she bent over at the waist to trim the deadwood at the base of one of the bushes, biting his lip to keep from groaning aloud in appreciation of the curve where her hip met her beautifully round bottom. He'd felt himself drawn to her physicality almost from the very beginning but as he'd gotten to know her and they had developed an almost unspoken language that allowed them to work so smoothly and effortlessly together, he'd been afraid pursuing a personal relationship might ruin all of that. And so he'd kept his distance, though it didn't keep him from admiring her from afar.

His mind had begun to wander and so it didn't register that she'd noticed him and was walking towards him, almost until she set her basket of cut roses on the wall next to him.

"Mrs. Crawley," he said warmly and tipped his hat, "Good afternoon!"

"It most certainly is, Dr. Clarkson," she returned with a wide smile, "I thought we agreed it would be Richard and Isobel, outside the hospital."

"Aye, we most certainly did, _Isobel_," he agreed allowing his brogue to deepen just a bit.

"Where are you off to this fine afternoon, Richard?" she inquired and reached into her basket to nip off a small pink rosebud and strip the thorns from it.

"I made a couple of housecalls and was on my way back to the cottage when I noticed the flowers in your garden and stopped to admire them," he said as she pulled off her garden gloves and picked up the rosebud.

Reaching out, she tucked her fingers beneath the fold where his lapel turned back so that she could slip the rosebud through the buttonhole of his jacket. From the corner of her eye, she could see his Adam's apple move up and down as he swallowed hard. Felt his heart begin to race where the backs of her fingers pressed against the material of his starched white shirt.

She wasn't exactly sure why she did it….

Her fingers moved to straighten his bowtie and then brush out across the tops of his shoulders before smoothing down the front of his jacket as if she'd done it a thousand times before. Head lowered, her lips quirked into a small smile when he cleared his throat and tugged nervously at his collar.

His eyes followed the graceful motion of her hands as they trailed down his lapels and moved to pick up her gloves and garden shears and place them in her basket. She startled him by jerking back her hand as if she'd been bitten.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed and he immediately took her hand into his own. "I pricked myself on a thorn is all."

"Let's have a look at it," he said patiently. Pulling out his handkerchief and turning her hand over, he wiped away the drop of blood that had formed on the pad of her ring finger. "I think I see the culprit, hold still and I'll see if I can't nip it out." Squeezing the end of her finger between his own, he used the fingernails of his other hand as a pair of tweezers to remove the thorn before wrapping it in his handkerchief and applying a bit of pressure. Looking up from where his head was bent over her hand as it lay cradled in his, he asked, "How's that?"

"It still stings a bit," she said shyly.

Unwrapping his handkerchief, he bent his head again to examine the wound. He gently ran his thumb over her palm to grasp it firmly while he brushed his fingernail over the spot to feel for any signs of debris. He felt her pulse quicken beneath his long fingers as they brushed over her wrist.

He wasn't sure why he did it…..

Slowly, he raised her hand so that he could press a gentle kiss against the tip of her finger where the thorn had pierced her skin. The sudden intake of her breath coupled with the fact that she didn't pull away from him emboldened him to press another kiss to the palm of her hand. Looking up into her face, he saw her eyes darken with desire and there was a soft huskiness to her voice when she spoke.

"Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?"

"I think I'd like that very much," he replied and bent to pick up his medical bag and grasp the handle of her flower basket.

He wondered for a moment as he followed her if perhaps she was putting an extra sway into those beautiful hips as she led him down the garden path.

* * *

_**A/N2: Reviews would be lovely! Thank you!**_


End file.
